There’s all these different stages of grief, you know DABDA; Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. Well apparently there’s also a Liberation stage as well. Where’s that stage in the DSM-5? I didn’t even know this was something people referred to, but as I was explaining my recent summer activities to a fellow wid, she responded very matter of fact of, “yup, you’re in the liberation stage. I was there for two and a half years. Enjoy.”
What the hell?
The way this liberation stage was described to me was, you know when people go through a midlife crisis, and have the overwhelming feeling that the “grass is greener on the other side.” That is what I’m going through. I am thinking about buying a jacked up bike, so maybe that’s my irrational purchase that’s irising in quickly.
When I think of liberation, I think of Forest Gump, and how Jenn-ay was always doing things on impulse and being slightly reckless. I don’t know what I’m freeing myself from, but I do think I’m starting to grasp the world just a little bit more, rather than watch it strain through my fingers like a colander. With this new information about the liberation stage, I’ve decided to pitch it as a story, and it was accepted. So now I’m working on a little ditty about it. There’s one thing specifically that sticks out in my mind as the perfect example. Unfortunately it’s something that I will not be posting on here any time soon. I’ve allowed a massive window into my widow life but somethings have to be kept away from a public blog. Perhaps if it comes out well, I’ll post it. One thing I’ve learned is, with being widowed so young you quickly realize you’re in a different place in your life than most people are. There’s just some messes that are worth my time, and others that should be swept under the rug and revisited at a later date.